VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve's Story

A train comes rolling into a station, slowly grinding to a stop. with a hiss, the train’s doors slide open. “Kiergestein, Kiergestein station. Please watch your step when getting of the train.” the message repeats itself a few times more as the passengers stream out of the train and onto the station. As the train empties out., a metallic figure hops out of the exit, landing onto platform with a thud. “Wow, that was a long train ride. Almost succumbed to boredom on the way here.” The figure said. “Now, how do i get to the central square?” With that question in mind, he went asking around, but many were reluctant to mention anything at all, besides a friendly elderly lady whom he suspected had a case of bad eyesight. Nonetheless, she detailed him the exact way to get to the centre from where he was. Thanking the elderly lady, he made his way there, stopping briefly to buy a newspaper.

“Hey, didja hear? Some nutter fired a few shots at a cat in central square.””Yeah yeah, heard that already. get with the times rog my buddy.” Is what a middle aged men said to another. “Reading this newspaper will have to wait.”Gainsboro said as he tucked the newspaper under his right arm, and continued on his way towards the centrum. Each step fast and with purpose, The click-clacking sound his metal feet made upon the cobblestone street audible enough to attract numerous looks during his brisk walk. When he finally made it to the square He noticed three glaringly obvious things.

One: The very flamboyant performer on stage who looked highly annoyed by the rabbit kindred next to him.
Two: The most diverse group of all time was gathered around one spot.
Three: The Grey, gargantuan women who held a sign which looked small in her hands, up in the air which had "Super Awesome Magic Hunters Recruitment." crudely written on it. “Truly, a toddler could have done a better job of writing it”. Is what he thought.

He but away his still unread newspaper in his slingbag and retrieved his Proof of assignment letter from the main United Keter States GMHO branch. He made his way to the extraordinary group, his foot falls ever audible as walked around the group until he saw the person next to the giant of a women, a relatively tall, well built man who wore his hair in a tail, who he just saw slamming two stacks of paper on the table, giving the shortest disclaimer he ever heard and introducing himself as Hugo and his feline companion as Felix.

"The party will be acting as an official expedition party that will act on the behalf of the GMHO and because of this I cannot divulge the details of the expedition in public or to non party members. If the circumstances were different I would be free to tell everything, but the GMHO doesn't like people knowing everything about what they do and I'd like to keep my license and my life. You are also required to sign either a two month or four month contract to join the party so that you will be able to receive the necessary visas. So who wants to get rich or die a horrendous and painful death trying?" After he finished talking, and after letting various people including the bunnygirl respond to Hugo, Gainsboro addressed the man.

“Sir. I have been newly assigned to you by the main Teker GMHO branch.” He says as he holds out his assignment letter. “My name is Variable Proto System, Grand Walker Frame III; “Gainsboro Twelve”. You may call me Gainsboro Twelve. Am i also required to fill in these forms, and is there anything i can assist you with at the moment, sir?” He asked, his voice somewhat altered through the voice box behind his faceplate, and slightly muffled by the faceplate itself.

June 21--10:35 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire

By the time the Huntsmaster-to-be had finished speaking and sent confetti flying everywhere, Michael was staring at him with a confounded look. This man did...not seem quite right in the head. He was rather spontaneous, and as far as Michael could see, not entirely trustworthy. And just what was he doing, talking to his cat?

But one thing was clear: Hugo would not be giving him any more information. Combing the confetti and streamers out of his short, pink hair, Michael turned around and started walking away without giving much of a farewell at all. As soon as he was sure he was out of eyesight of the crowd at the booth, however, he glanced backwards, and for a fraction of a second, his eye flashed orange once more, allowing him to see the magic signatures of everyone at that stand.

And good heavens, there were plenty of tremendously powerful people there! The "statue" lady, the Huntsmaster, a young lady with white hair, even a man in a black suit who sat a small distance from the booth...actually, whether the man in the suit was involved, Michael didn't know, but that wasn't the point...in any case, he could see that the power flowing through their bodies exceeded both his and Thomas' at normal levels.

Just as Michael was wondering why so many powerful people had come to this Hunting Party in particular, his thought process was interrupted by metallic clanking--and he looked up barely in time to see what appeared to be a robotic suit walking past. For a few moments, Michael continued to stare in awe while it marched to the booth--and then, he made up his mind about something.

Rushing into a dark alley, he raised a hand to his bracelet and made a short yet urgent conversation with someone else. "...Yes. I understand. I'll tell him right away." After that was over, he made another call, this time to Thomas.

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Thomas, meanwhile, was bowing to his audience with a triumphant smile on his face. The show had gone with no further distractions, and his fans were very pleased--though Thomas himself had panicked internally when the loud robotic suit had gone past, but thankfully his Fan Service had not been ignored.

The people around him were now shouting for an encore performance, and Thomas was about to reply when he noticed the violet gem on his bracelet flashing. Although rather annoyed, this time, he knew something important was going on. "Ah, hold on a moment, my fans. Your encore will begin shortly." Raising a hand one more time, he packed the puppets into the dark violet box and rushed away, where he could continue his conversation in peace. "What is it, Michael? I need to do an encore!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but your Fan Service must wait a bit longer," his younger brother's voice retorted. "Listen, Thomas. There was a booth next to your show--remember it? Where that crazy man shot at his cat?"

"Yes, what about it?" Thomas asked impatiently.

There was a pause on the other side of the line. Then, "We would like you to join that man's Hunting Party."

"Pfft, I'm too busy for-" Thomas suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the bracelet as though it had turned into a jellyfish. "Wait, WHAT?! Why would I need to do that?!"

Michael's voice continued, but the voices were getting louder around his end, so he probably was re-entering the main square. "Most of the people looking to be in that Hunting Party are extremely strong. That level of strength is exactly what Fath..." The words suddenly halted, and in that moment, Thomas bowed his head rather miserably while Michael resumed speaking in a shakier voice. "...what we are looking for. So...he asked you to join."

"Well, why not you? I've got work to do!" Even though what Michael almost said had dampened his spirits, Thomas was still rather determined not to go.

"There's still one week of classes left, so I can't go. And, well, you...know why we can't send Christopher.'" Another silence fell between the brothers before Michael finally resumed talking. "Well, in any case, you're the only one out of us that can go. So, I'll ask the Huntsmaster if you can enter. Get back to the square, alright? You can do your encore after we're finished."

Finally, Thomas reluctantly agreed and headed back towards the center of the city.

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Right. This should work out fine. Michael, at this point, had reached the booth again, and raised a hand to call attention to himself. "Excuse me, sir," he called to Hugo. "I will not be joining your Hunting Party myself just yet, but could I reserve a spot for someone else?"

Hugo leaned on the table and looked the bunny girl in the eyes and smiled, "No, I said that main goal is to get rich or die in horrendous ways trying. After all, magic hunters don't just die, they die horrific, painful, and gruesome deaths, unless they do drugs or they have a heart condition." Hugo dropped his serious tone in favor of a much friendlier version.

"I'm required to make sure that most participants know that most deaths are horrible, it reduces liability. Here's the dealio, I don't know where you got the idea that we will be searching for vaults, cause only a fool plans on finding vaults, unless the fool has map, but then he wouldn't be a fool, he would be a very rich person in the near future." Hugo paused for moment, "Wait, I'm getting off topic, shit." Hugo quickly cleared his throat, "I'm not going to lie, there is a possibility of finding a vault, but it's not a guarantee and it won't be our primary objective. But what we find, what we do with the vault is all up to the future us, you know what I mean? And there's also the fact that I can't predict what future Hugo will do in a vault." Hugo pulled out two contract choices and presented them to the bunny girl, "I'm not going to judge but I have to know, are you one of the plague cure chasers? It's okay if you are, but don't raise any hopes." Hugo dipped the quill and placed it in front of the two contract options, "Alright Floppsy, sign on the dotted line if you're still interested."

Hugo picked up two contracts and handed it to the seraph, "And Angel Dust, you should know the routine, choose the contract length you want and sign on the dotted line and you'll be in. It'll be great to have a healer and a veteran on board." Hugo pulled out another pair of contracts and handed them to the half elf, "Don't call it a quest, you'll make it sound like a field trip for small children. If you're interested, sign on the the dotted line, and you can join the crew. But I'm not going to accept your help, to be honest I don't trust the bureaucratic abilities of someone named Donnie, you look like a Donnie, are you named Donnie?" Hugo gave the half elf a big smile, "Just messin', though I will need your name. There are people named Donnie everywhere and you can't trust people named Donnie."

Hugo turned to the iron clad man, "Nice to meet you, but that wasn't a name, and I refuse to refer to you by a product code so I'm going give you a nickname, and I'll let you choose which nickname ya get since you gave something that was supposed to be a name. So your choices are Robo-Enforcer or Plate Face." Hugo pushed the two contract options forwords, "You can get back to me on that choice with a signed contract."

Hugo glared at the fruity haired teenager, "Listen Berry Boy, this isn't a dumping ground for your reject boyfriends, I don't accept reservations. Isn't that right Felix. Felix?" Hugo turned his head to where Felix was sitting, "Shit, what the hell Felix! Where did you go?"

Felix had left during the flurry of questions and answers. Hugo was being loud, there were too many people around the table and Felix decided it would be best to scope out the other applicants. As he slipped through the crowd Felix detected a faint and familiar smell as well as its accompanying presence. Felix soon spotted that red scarf, and that blond hair. So it really was Morgan, even though she aged, Felix still thought she still looked the same. She still looked like a half breed and she still accessorized like a socialist. Felix leaped onto Morgan's shoulder by using Morgan's traveling companion as a boost. Felix smiled and began tapping a message into the forehead of Morgan in Morse Code. The message was on the lines of, "Greetings compatriot who dresses like a communist, how goes your glorious revolution? Also if Hugo was here with me he would most likely say some form of hello."

Maleki had only had a second, barely getting his question out of his mouth before it seemed as though every oddball in the entire city was suddenly crowding around the booth. He was not sure what annoyed him more, the large number or people jostling around him and talking all at once or the crazy man he was trying to get a job from. Suffice to say, the odd collection of people gathered around was more than interesting, as the bossman sent confetti flying everywhere he took a moment to glance around and study the people gathered.

The first to come up after him had been a small goblin with shifty looking eyes and an odd beard, odd partly because Maleki could not recall the last time he had seen a goblin with a true beard. The little one was small enough that if he was not careful he might get trampled by the others standing around. A orc had shown up right after, shouting about wanting to hunt for magic. Female from the looks of her, if he had to guess he would say she was from one of the plains tribes but he could easily be mistaken. She spoke with a heavy accent, obviously not from around these parts and he could not tell for sure if her seemingly quick breathing was out of weariness or out of excitement. He had a feeling she would end up burning herself out if she continued the way she was. It was better to go slowly and calmly. Next a short, though not as short as the goblin, girl approached with deep blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean he had seen only once before. The wings on her back gave away her race, either she was a seraph or his understanding of human anatomy was missing a few points. She was more interested in the cat though than anything else, probably not an adventurous bone in her body. This was already an odd group of people gathered, he was not going to be walking into any taverns with them. As his eyes moved past the girl he spotted someone who made a slight shiver run up his spine. Fighters always had a different sense about them, like wolves able to know when another is near. His senses told him that the human who was talking to the elemental was an experienced fighter, both because of the fact that he was taller than most of the other people around and also due to the fact that he had a hardness about him which could only be produced by time spent harming another living person. He would have to keep his eye on that one, luckily it did not look as though the man was keeping an eye on him.

As Maleki was studying the nord a man stepped between them, cutting off his view. While the Nord had seemed hard and brutal, the newcomer was obviously more refined. Another seraph, he held himself as if he was defusing a bomb, serious and with an air of precision. No warrior though, he was more likely a merchant or politician of some sort. A persons whose words could be as deadly as a blade. A small smile spread across Maleki’s face, any smart man would leave now, this group was already looking like trouble with the strange people joining it, and a wise man would extract himself and not get involved in such a concoction that was probably going to blow up in someone’s face. It was Maleki’s gut that he followed though, picking up one of the papers that the man, Hugo, had set out and filling it out. Whatever happened, at least he would have something to do finally. An elf had just approached, talking with hugo when a giant tin man came walking out of nowhere. Maleki could not help but laugh a little, setting the paper down and pushing it towards Hugo along with the other filled out papers. The tin man was a warrior, or at least that was what his build looked like, and walking talking machine warriors were not the most common thing to see walking around. He did not know why he was surprised though, from the looks of things a life walker would be joining next and no one would mind at all. With a shake of his head Maleki asked one question to Hugo, his voice projecting a bit in order to make sure he caught the man’s attention. “When do we leave? I would like to look around more if I have the time.”

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The man name "Hugo" then turned to him, handing him a contract. "Don't call it a quest, you'll make it sound like a field trip for small children." The man said. "If you're interested, sign on the the dotted line, and you can join the crew. But I'm not going to accept your help, to be honest I don't trust the bureaucratic abilities of someone named Donnie, you look like a Donnie, are you named Donnie?" "Hugo" gave a smile. "Just messin', though I will need your name. There are people named Donnie everywhere and you can't trust people named Donnie."

"My name's Lucusious." he said signing the paper. "Lucious Marder, don't bother trying to pin a nickname on me" he continued. "They never stick." Lucious returned the signed paper. He also took a second to take a look around at the company gathered around him. A few big brutes...a couple seraphs...strange folk too... he thought. "This is becoming more and more like one of those fairy tales..." he sighed.

Lucious turned back to Hugo. "Now what?"

"Nice to meet you, but that wasn't a name, and I refuse to refer to you by a product code so I'm going to give you a nickname, and I'll let you choose which nickname ya get since you gave something that was supposed to be a name. So your choices are Robo-Enforcer or Plate Face. You can get back to me on that choice with a signed contract." The recruiter had said.

“Oh sir, you wound me. I hold considerable pride in my name you know? I am saddened you wouldn’t even settle for Gainsboro.” The Voltikron said before a small chuckle escaped him. “ I jest, it doesn’t bother me to that extend. Can’t say the same for the lead designer. Cute kid. I’d break her heart if she heard about it though. ” He took the form with the 4 month option, and started filling it in. While he filled in the form, he thought about those two nicknames.”Robo-enforcer? What am i? a kill bot? “TARGET EXTERMINATED, AWAITING NEW DIRECTIVES. NEW DIRECTIVES AQCUIRED, ENGAGING NEW TARGET.” He tried to stifle a snicker as he imagined it. “Plate face was just as bad. Seriously, this Hugo guy is quite unimagineative. Let’s just get this form filled in.” He thought.

"Age, birthplace, race aaand done.” He handed his now filled in form back to Hugo as he spoke. “Here you go sir. Now about those nicknames… They sound both quite horrible and uncreative. I’d really prefer it if you’d just call me Gainsboro or even Gain, but if you have to be stubborn about it, At least call me Dan, Metalman or Tinman. Heck, even Tincan’s better.” He tried to explain to the GMHO assigned recruiter. “Either way, i’ll be sitting over here reading my newspaper until you need me.” He said while shrugging, as he made his way towards a nearby bench. He took his newspaper out of his bag and sat down, Crossing his left leg over the right in a casual manner. He started reading the frontpage slowly, taking his time reading it, all the while whistling what he thought was a soft, pleasant tune.

June 21--10:38 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire

"B-boyfriend?!" Michael spluttered, utterly unable to understand where the most-certainly-not-right-in-the-head Huntsmaster had gotten that notion from. But already Hugo was wondering with anger where someone named Felix had gone. "How rude...honestly, I worry about what I'm getting Thomas into," the pink-haired boy muttered to himself.

At that moment, he heard the crowd of Thomas' fans cheering, and knew the reason why without even turning around. The puppeteer celebrity had returned to the square already. Alright, time to get down to business.

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Waving to his fans and giving them his usual stage smile, Thomas quickly locked onto Michael with his eyes and began walking in his direction. "Okay, let's get this thing over with," he sighed as soon as he could no longer see his fans in his peripheral vision. "So this is the thing you want me to spend my precious time for?"

"Yes," Michael replied, sounding none too happy--Thomas could see him glaring at a man in a trench coat. Though he couldn't guess what happened, Thomas shrugged and took one of the forms, beginning to sign it without really giving much of a greeting to any of the people standing around him. "Um, shouldn't you say something first?" Michael asked, indicating the man in the trench coat. "You should at least introduce yourself, right?"

Once again, Thomas shrugged without seeming to care much. "Not my problem," he replied. "So, what are you planning to do in exchange for all this trouble you'll be putting me through? I don't want to be away from my fans for too long."

"When classes are over, I will go after your party. Just message your location to me at that time, Thomas," his younger brother instructed. This made Thomas feel better, knowing that he wouldn't have to suffer through this alone.

The blanks on the paper were soon filled with Thomas' somewhat untidy handwriting. "Alright, we're ready," Thomas sighed, putting the pen down. "Now, who am I supposed to give this to..." Pointed in the direction of the man in the trench coat once again, Thomas tapped the man on the shoulder and handed his form in. "Well. You are the one in charge, eh? I am Thomas Aefenleoht, and I'll be entering your party. No objections, I hope."

Not far away, he could hear his fans gasping in surprise and saying things such as "Thomas is joining a Hunting Party?" "What would he ever need to do that for?" "He's got weird tastes at times, huh?" Putting a hand to his face, the puppeteer figured his fans would not give him a rest at all. This would be a fuuuuuun journey.

~Kai Ember
Like for most things in her life, Kai was late.
But she had gone too far to turn back. It had begun as whispers, rumors, in her little hometown of Ebony in Ulteris. Something about Magic, and something about hunting, and something about it all starting in a Solarian city. She couldn't resist. She sure disliked Solarians but she disliked her menial existence as a barmaid even more. It had been a while since she had been in a good fistfight. A slow smile curled on her lips. It was time for some excitement again.
So she had traveled all the way from Ulteris, using her hard earned savings along with some more dubiously obtained funds. But she had made it. Now she ducked through the city, looking for something she wasn't quite sure what. But she was late. She had a crawling feeling she was running out of time.
A beggar grasped her foot as she passed, causing her to stagger. She regained her balance quickly and snatched her foot away. "Watch it." She snarled at him. But she didn't have time to pick a fight. She had to hurry and find this magic hunting party. She pressed on through the festival crowds.
Then she saw it. There was a ragtag group of people scrunched around a table. And was that confetti dotting the ground? And then there was a statue-looking thing with the scribbled sign. Yup - this had to be it. Kai stalked up to the crowd and rocked up on her toes, trying to see. It was impossible to get a good look. So she just pushed into the crowd.
Kai shoved and elbowed her way ruthlessly through the group. She had her eye on the table ahead, so she didn't get a good look at the people she was pushing aside. But she thought she saw a little green goblin, and a tall elf, and wait was that a girl with bunny ears? And was that a robot?
She pressed to the front, by the table, and rudely elbowed aside the strange man with multicolored hair that was standing there. She put a hand on the table and leaned against it casually. She was a rather strange sight - a Teker girl with short, shaggy brown hair wearing boys clothing. She wore loose brown pants rolled up to reveal scuffed combat boots, a button up shirt, and a too-big vest that hung off her slight, boyish frame. Her large brown eyes sparked as she grinned up at the man in the trench coat standing behind the table.
"Is this where I sign up?"

June 21--10:40 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire

Thomas was roughly pushed to the side all of a sudden, before the man in the trench coat could reply. "Hey! Watch it!" he shouted, angrily turning around. Just who did this girl think she was, ruining his Fan...oh wait, wrong, he wasn't doing it right now.

Though honestly, what was with the crowd around them? It barely made any sense, seeing Seraphs, an orc, a goblin, some robot that he personally thought looked rather ugly, an elf, that bunny girl, and then humans like him and Michael...and that annoying girl that shoved him aside. What a weird bunch, eh?

Meanwhile, Michael, who really didn't have much of a purpose now, sat down on the bench next to the robot (who looked rather strange to him, especially when he was casually reading a newspaper) and continued to look on at the Hunting Party's booth. As he saw Thomas shout angrily at the girl who had pushed him aside, the pink-haired boy sighed and muttered something about how impolite people were getting these days.

Glancing at the robot again, Michael wondered if he should start a conversation, but decided not to.

Hugo quickly leafed through the contracts. After seeing that everything was in order Hugo straightened out the pile with a few quick taps. “A good days work, and nice bundle of fresh heads.” Hugo smiled and let out a deep sigh. From the depths of his pockets Hugo pulled out his bronze pocket watch and flipped it open, 10:45. Hugo quickly snapped it shut and addressed the troll, “You shouldn’t worry about leaving today. I have to run these contracts to the local GMHO office to create the party roster and register everyone here under my jurisdiction and leadership. Now if I can get these contracts in before they close early,we should be able to leave tomorrow morning, tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

A loud canon of a laugh boomed across the crowd from the back. “Ah but the office is already closed! We decided not to open at all today, after all it is the summer solstice festival!” A large, dark skinned man made his way up to the front. “I could smell the fear and eradicated fantasies from across the city and I knew only one magic hunter could destroy so many hopes and dreams with a few introductory remarks. How the hell have you been?”

The large man grabbed Hugo, hugging, lifting and crushing all at the same time, “You’re crushing me,” the Huntsmaster groaned.

The man released Hugo from his bear hug, “Sorry ‘bout that, I sometimes don’t know my own strength.” Hugo wheezed for air and coughed, “It’s nice to see you too, I see you haven’t lost your touch.”

The large man picked up the stack of contracts and weighed it in his palm. “My, my, I have to say this a larger stack than usual, have you gone soft or have you just lost your touch?”

Hugo avoided the larger man’s inquisitive look and joking smile, “No, I’m just … working with different terms.”

A jovial “Ha” was blasted into the air and the man slapped Hugo across the back, “So what you mean is that HQ decided that you were being too morbid and gave you a recruitment quota. It’s a shame really, it was always entertaining seeing you widdle an entire crowd down to a few candidates.”

The man began looking over the contracts and signed the top contract, “Hey, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m giving you and your party a speed boost.”

Hugo stared at the man, “I don’t think your signature can threaten to beat people up.” “Well the being the chairman of the Southern Solarian District does add some important weight to my name.” Hugo looked at his friend with shock, “That’s right; gaze upon Chairman Brutus of the GMHO!"

“Wait, your last name is Brutus?”

“No, Brutus is my given name and only name.” Brutus handed back the contracts, “Bring the contracts first thing tomorrow morning and I can guarantee that the office will get the party roster registered within the hour. So enjoy yourself and try to catch the parade. They’re trying make a big show for one of the magi, so it will be fantastic. See ya soon!”

“Fill in all the blanks that ask for your information.” Hugo gave the line jumper a contract and moved her aside, “Hey Morgan, I see you found Felix, I hope he hasn’t tapped anything he shouldn’t have.” Hugo pulled out the remaining contracts, “So I’m assuming you and your friend are here for the sign ups. Cool stuff, just fill out the required spots and we will be —” Hugo was suddenly interrupted by a blast of chilled air as three dark purple pillars of light that came from an expanding pitch black cloud struck the ground a few near the Kriegstein senate. Hugo drew his revolver and scowled, “You have to be shitting me.”

The streets were on fire with black and green flames that flickered from the impact site. The city guards encircled the mass of robed madmen and their ironclad leader. A simple and hollow command echoed from the suit of armor, “Kill them.” A deathly howl rang out from the mass and the mob descended upon the guards like a wave of madness. “Kill them all, kill them in the name of the devourer.” Civilians ran away from the blood thirsty cultists who easily cut them down with their twisted and grotesque blades. “The spell casters and the blood circle is ready. She shall truly have a feast tonight. But, my liege, are you sure they will be able to spill enough blood in order to force the contract?”

A simple and chilling laugh rang from the blackened helm, “If they cannot spill enough, I’m sure that the hot blooded fool will be able to compensate for what will be needed.” “I heard you were talking shit. Dreadlord Ezekiel, it is time for you to atone for your sins against the creations of the life walkers.” The dreadlord turned to face the challenger, “I figured you would show yourself, you sorry excuse for a magi.”

The magi’s face turned crimson red with rage, “This ends now. May your soul burn for all of eternity. Gergamel, GIVE ME STRENGTH!” The magi charged at the dreadlord with a loud and piercing battle cry. After a few minutes of intense fighting the dreadlord jumped back. “Face it Ezechiel, it’s over, you’ve lost!”

A faint chuckle echoed from the dreadlord’s helm, “I would beg to differ; it’s you who has lost.”

The magi stared at the dreadlord in bewilderment, and then it him, he was standing right in the middle of a blood circle. “No, how did you—”

“I’m very careful at spilling my own blood. Well it was fun while it lasted but I’m afraid it's time for you to die. ENCASE!” The magi was suddenly surrounded by ribbons of blood that encircled and bound his body. “May your soul bring nourishment to her body. CRUCIFY!” a large metal spike rose from the ground empaling the magi.

“Damn you Ezech—,” From the sides of the spike shot out two arms that formed the bloody crucifix. The magi’s body squirmed and then exploded into a shower of blood that covered the dreadlord and his spellcasters.

From the mangled corpse emerged the great spirit Gergamel. The spellcasters slammed their staffs into the ground, as the murmured their incantations. Five scarlet ribbons of blood emerged from the bloodied streets and bound the fearful spirit. The dreadlord drew his sword and cut off his right hand. With mock grandeur, he waved the bleeding arm as if he was signing his name on a large sheet of paper. “FORCE CONTRACT!” the spirit howled in pain as its form was being absorbed by the stump of the dreadlord. In a bright flash of light the spirit was gone and the body of the dreadlord was restored. The dreadlord unleashed a maniacal laugh, “I can feel its power course through my veins, my god does this feel wonderful.”

“My liege, would you like to lead the eradication of the city?”

“I have finished my business in this petty sacrifice. Spell casters, we return to our fortress. Message the rest of the group; tell them that they may stay and feast upon the flesh of innocents.” The spell casters nodded and launched a glowing red projectile into the air. The dreadlord raised his sword into the air and they disappeared into the smoky haze, while his minions bore down on city, leaving trails of blood and half eaten corpses.

June 21--10:45 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire

Watching the two men bicker with each other, Thomas sighed and looked around; it was still morning, so the hours would go by slowly. "Well, we'll have plenty of time to kill, eh?" he murmured. "Well. I'll be over there, giving my Fans the encore they wanted. If you need me, please wait until the show's over." And he began to walk away, back to where the box of puppets was waiting.

Immediately, the fans cheered, but there were still questions running around about his joining the Magic Hunters. Would they ever give him a rest about it? Thomas sighed and raised his hands to obtain his fans' attention. "I have only decided to seek out the Magic for the good of our Solarian Empire, my friends, as well as our allies across Valderia. That is the best Fan Service...no, the best service at all I could give to this land." Of course, it sounded rather hollow to him, but he tried to ignore that.

However, the puppets had barely risen out of his box when a cold wind burst past him and his fans, causing some to lose their footing--even Thomas had to grab onto the edge of the box to steady himself. Looking up, he saw three pillars of dark purple pillars of light emitting from further down the street, as black clouds swirled high above the city. "What the hell--?"

His bracelet flashed, and he raised it to hear Michael's voice. Most of his fans were looking in the other direction, pointing and gasping in horror at this new spectacle, so he was in no danger of being observed by them. "Thomas, I don't know what's going on, but a great quantity of powerful magic signatures dropped into that area. Something big and bad is happening."

"I can see that, Michael," the puppeteer hissed. Pointing at the puppets, he gestured towards the box, and they flew towards it--but instead of putting themselves away, they instead picked up swords, shields, and spears. "You can do whatever you want--I'm going to ensure my fans are safe," Thomas declared firmly.

Pointing in the other direction, he ordered the crowd of his admirers to head off, and turned back towards the pillars of dark light, as his puppets began to assemble themselves in front of him in defensive postures. "But, man...this is terrifying. It's like a freaking apocalypse right now..." Suddenly, Thomas thought he could see figures clad in dark robes murdering and mutilating all who were unfortunate enough to get caught up in the chaos. Cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck; it now seemed apparent that he was about to be swept up into something terrible.

Valar could only watch, stunned as the scene unfolded before him. He had never before seen such use of magic, so much and so potent. However as soon as the mages vanished he realized that the cultists were still there and they were butchering civilians. He got up on the fountain.

"ALRIGH! LISTEN UP! Those of you with medical expertise or healing power stay by the fountain we'll set up a casualty collection point right here. MARKSMEN! Get some height. You can take out targets and call out points of contact to everyone else. EVERYONE ELSE! Pair up, if you can't fight, find someone who can, or stay here and help the wounded. This is not a drill, lets get it right the first time."

People seemed to snap out of their daze and started to jump to what he told them. He stabbed his finger at the girl with the red scar f and her friend because they seemed to be the only two with rifles. "You two, sharpshooters? With me." He said and started moving towards the tower of a nearby tower. "One of you up there, point and call the shots." Myself and the other will be down on the rooves relaying that to the other parties."

He moved off to his own rooftops. Squeezing off shots as he ran. All of a sudden he was blindsided by a huge hit. He rolled losing his rifle and wound up with a cultist on top of him. They rolled through the street Valar holding a knife away from his face while the slavering cultist tried to plunge it into his eye. He snapped the cultists arm out to the side and headbutted him breaking his nose. After that the cultists insane strength seemed to ebb and Valar picked him up and threw him against a post breaking his spine. What the hell was that?! No way a cultist that small should have been able to over power him, they had the strength of 3 men having been empowered from the magi's.

He got onto his roof and started directing the magic hunters to target clusters.

“I kind of regret buying this now.” Was what he thought, as Gainsboro came to the back page of the newspaper he had so casually been reading. It didn’t contain much interesting news aside from one particular article. It was about about a man who refused to come out of his neighbour’s dog kennel. At first the owner was under the impression that the man had gotten himself stuck in there for some reason, but it wasn’t until the neighbour refused not only his help, but also refused to get out, that the owner called the local law enforcers to have the neighbour removed from his kennel. It was afterwards that they found out the dog kennel was exponentially bigger on the inside than it was on the outside.

Gainsboro rummaged through his slingbag, looking for a pen. When he found it, he flipped his newspaper around and started to do a crossword puzzle. If one were to ask if he enjoyed doing them, he’d answer with “no” every time. However, he thought he’d at least be able to pass time while doing them, since he hated doing nothing more than anything. As Gainsboro got halfway through his puzzle, he noted that a young man in garish clothes and pink hair, similar to the performer on stage, had seated himself next to him. Neither of the two made an effort to communicate to the other, merely waiting for either one to start a conversation. It made Gainsboro feel somewhat on edge. Eventually he got enough of it and he was about to ask the fellow for a thirteen letter word that meant miscellaneous articles. He knew it was the word “paraphernalia”, but he wanted to ask the man beside him just to break the ice.

A sudden blast of air jerked the newspaper out of his left hand and blew it right into his faceplate. The mildly humorous sight of it would have made a great way to start a conversation, but not in this situation. Not under the oppressive, and grim atmosphere that even penetrated his frame to the core. No, such a malicious aura demanded the attention of all, and one could not help but oblige. Throwing the newspaper that obstructed his sight into the wind, he directed his attention towards the conspicuous group occupying the centre of the plaza. the figure in the middle, the one he’d personally refer to as “Head Honcho”, gave a simple but resolute, order: “Kill them.” And as if to add to that he said: “Kill them all, kill them in the name of the devourer.”

It was as if he had found himself amidst pandemonium; the screams of the innocent and of their assailants. Gainsboro wasted no time and dug a box full of bullets out of his bag, and dumped them into his left pocket. Taking his revolver out of his holster, he cocked back the hammer and marched towards a sizeable group of madmen, about 12 large. In the mere moments it took Gainsboro to prepare and approach them, they had already slaughtered and feasted upon their victims. Disgusted, he aimed his revolver at the savages and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the nearest savage, whom subsequently collapsed onto the floor, most likely dead. Four more shots were fired, and an equal amount of cultists dropped. Unloading the empty shells, he rapidly loaded five new bullets into the cylinder. Even though Gainsboro had expected the group to rush him as he reloaded, he however, was surprised they did it while he was still reloading. And they did it seemingly without fear or hesitation. It didn’t matter though, he wasn’t frightened either. He felt completely safe in his mechanical frame.

He grasped the hilt of his second leftmost sword in anticipation to the brute who rushed him, and shot down the two who were behind him. The brute in front had finally closed the distance and attempted a wild overhead slash. It was then that Gainsboro, drew his sword, and with an arc, cleaved through his assailants sword arm and neck like butter, decapitating them.
As the body dropped to the ground, the four that remained continued their rush towards him.
Gainsboro deflected a sword with his own, while trying to shoot a particularly nasty cultist wielding a hammer. The first shot missed it’s target, as the last two cultists tried to body check him to the ground, but he absorbed the blow well due to his weight, and managed to hit the hammer wielding cultist with the second shot, downing him.

Quickly taking a few steps back, He holstered his gun, and smacked the sword of the leftmost brute out of his hand. The other two didn’t sit still and swung at Gainsboro again, one which was quickly blocked with his wrist guard and the last impacted onto his forearm, leaving a minor indentation. Kicking back the cultist that marred his forearm, He rammed the second one away and plunged his sword into the cultist he had disarmed. Kicking him of his sword, he quickly slashed behind him, cleaving a cultist from the shoulder down to his collarbone. Gainsboro tried to pull out his sword, but was interrupted by a sword thrust at his left flank, which didn’t puncture, grazing the steel, and cutting through the fabric of his coat. Angered by this, he grasped the man’s head with his right hand, and gave him a solid punch with his left, knocking him down, but not unconscious. As he tried to stand back up, Gainsboro already loomed over him. He stomped down on his head numerous times, until his head no longer resembled one.

With his assailants dead, he retrieved his sword and reloaded his revolver. He had no time to reflect on his rendezvous with the cultists however, as he heard gunshots going off behind him. Turning towards the sound, Gainsboro saw a in the distance, man standing on top of a roof. He discharged his gun into a crowd of cultists, before promptly collapsing. Some shots hit their intended target, however, many went wide. Witnessing that, and the large group of cultists drawing closer to the man, he felt he needed to help him. He however thought it wouldn’t be wise to fight that group- one which was far larger than the previous he had fought- alone. That, and he didn’t know the condition the collapsed man was in. He then decided he’d use his trump card to hinder the cultists, grab the man and get them to a safe distance from them.

Gainsboro had quite the distance to run. The slits in his faceplate lit up a violent red, as he directed a stronger current through his legs and, sped off towards the group, kicking up broken tiles with every step. As he got close enough, Gainsboro skidded to a rumbling halt, sliding in front of the group. With a twist of the body and flourish, he crossed his hands in front of him like a fan. He shot an electrical bolt, emitting an actinic glow, from each finger. Before the bolts could hit, he crossed his hands again, shooting another actinic barrage. The bolts impacted into numerous places, near instantly paralysing whatever body part it hit, and caused all of the cultists in that group to fall down.

Gainsboro never expected this to work as well as it did just now, and was still wondering why everything shuddered so much. It was then that he noticed the earthen construct a few meters behind the cultists, whose fist was planted into the ground, as if he had just struck it.

Fear, blood, flesh, and chaos. Truly this effigy and orgy of violence should appease her. The three cultists relished themselves in the moment as they approached the closing gates. The guardsmen unleashed a hail of gunfire to slow their advance as they desperately moved to close the massive gates. With a loud clang the gates were sealed and the remaining guards men beckoned their comrades on the top of the gates to let down the escape lines. Panic quickly turned to desperation as the three cultist showed no signs of stopping, even though they should have been very dead. The center cultists smiled and stopped his brethren, “Leave these pathetic mortals to me.” The other two stepped back and smiled as they watched the blubbering guards screamed for their comrades to save them.

The cultist’s eyes began glowing a deep red as the flesh under his skin began squirming. The pain from his bones realigning themselves was gut wrenching and he could feel the skin strain to contain the rapidly growing muscle. The cultist unleashed an ear piercing cry which was drowned out by rising blood as the skin burst open to make way for his new and terrifying body. He was now a large and bulky testament to limitless strength and raw flesh with arms that were twice their original size. The guards trembled in terror as the crimson mass charged through their new hail of bullets unscathed. The hulking beast tore them apart as if they were made of soggy tissues and disposed of their mutilated bodies in his gaping mouth.

The behemoth wiped the blood from his mouth and turned to face the massive steel crucifix that occupied the center of the city, “Do you think there is more flesh to consume near the ground zero?” “Of course, now lets get there before the others eat more than their own share.”

They were oh so close, but the pack must have caught their scent. Just one more block to the crucifix and to the rendezvous point. Brutus shoved the shotgun into the cultist's mouth and unloaded both rounds. The cultist's head exploded, releasing a torrent of blood and brains. Brutus reached into the opened head cavity and ripped out a strange throbbing organ. Brutus stared at it for a short while and crushed it in his hand. The body of the cultist suddenly burst into harmless green fire and all remnants of the cultist vanished without a trace. Brutus smirked and turned turned to his personal kill team, "Make sure you destroy their synapse or they won’t stay dead for long.”

Brutus ejected the two shell as he walked up to the cold and bloody steel crucifix that towered above him. “It’s a damn shame, he was the better man. He deserved better than this.” One of the remaining veteran hunters ran up to him, “Sir the city has been sealed and word is that the purge squads are already on their way.” Brutus scowled as he reloaded,

“Well is the train company holding true to their word?” The veteran nodded, “The Eleven O’clock will be fifteen minutes late, but it will it still arrive. They said that the longer we can hold the station the longer the train will wait. But chairman, are you sure about the deal with the governor, he could use go back on his word and prevent the train from leaving the city.” Brutus smiled, “I doubt he will, after all he will want us alive to fulfill our end of the bargain. Where’s Tellus? We need to hook up to the city broadcasting system.” The veteran hung his head, “He’s dead, got nailed by a bone spike.” Brutus’s eyes widened, “They’re already shifting? Well god damn, they’re getting better at mutating themselves. Well is the radio still intact?”

The veteran nodded and handed Brutus the microphone, “Tellus hooked it all up before he bled out, he said that we needed to get the message out.” Brutus sighed, “Let’s not let his death be in vain,” Brutus turned to face the remaining Hunters with him, “Remember guys the survivors won’t be the only ones hearing it, so lets be prepared for the worst.” Brutus raised the microphone to his mouth and waited for the operator to give him the go ahead, “Attention all living members of the intelligent races,” Brutus paused to listen his voice being echoed and projected by the city.

“Due to the presence of a dark cult the city has been sealed off and placed under quarantine. All gates have been sealed and a magical barrier has been placed around the city preventing any other means of conventional escape. That being said there will be an escape vessel arriving at the central train station within thirty minutes. Due to the violent nature of the cult the train will not be able to stay for very long, that is why we recommend that all survivors make their way to the central station as quickly as possible. To all hunters and contractees, protocol twenty-four has been invoked and the Solarians will be handling the extermination. Utmost caution is recommended against all cultists and it is best to avoid to engagement. And remember, it isn’t dead if the body is still there.”

Hugo quickly gathered his things and hung the heating mechanism on his waist. Felix hopped off Morgan’s shoulder and stared at Hugo, “So what’s the plan?” Hugo inserted a mana canister into the the heater and slung his duffle bag over his shoulder. “The main goal is to get out of the city and not die.”

Hugo pulled out his grenade pistol and picked up one of the supposed corpse. Hugo shoved the pistol into the mouth of the cultist and fired, completely destroying the head. The body soon dissolved into a green flame and Hugo put his away the pistol,

“Hope you folks were paying attention, cause shit just got real. For those who aren't familiar with the concept of quarantine and or the significance of protocol twenty-four allow me to explain. It means that the whole of the designated area will be sealed off and due to protocol twenty-four, the entire hazard area will be deemed a dead zone and all living organisms within the dead zone will be made dead.”

“Usually the GMHO takes care of the extermination, but unluckily for us the Solarians are taking charge. Which means we have to get the hell out of this city. Of course you can test your luck and stay. But in the end you will have make a choice. Do want to be eaten alive or do you want to be incinerated. But hey if dying a horrible death is really your thing then fine by me, I ain’t gonna judge. But for those of you who want to live I recommend that you listen to my every direction. The central train station is about ten blocks from where we stand, we will be able to get there before the train arrives if we don’t attract too much attention. It’s best to leave now this area now while the cultists divert their attention. Gather your things and make sure we’re not leaving anyone behind, after all there is safety in numbers.”

June 21--10:52 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire

“Attention, all living members of the intelligent races!" In the midst of the heated fighting, Thomas diverted just a small amount of his attention to hear the message. "Due to the presence of a dark cult, the city has been sealed off and placed under quarantine. All gates have been sealed, and a magical barrier has been placed around the city, preventing any other means of conventional escape. That being said, there will be an escape vessel arriving at the central train station within thirty minutes. Due to the violent nature of the cult, the train will not be able to stay for very long; therefore, we recommend that all survivors make their way to the central station as quickly as possible."

The puppeteer was about to just make a mental note to get to the station as quickly as possible and return to battle, but then another part of the message came: "To all hunters and contractees, protocol twenty-four has been invoked and the Solarians will be handling the extermination. Utmost caution is recommended against all cultists, and it is best to avoid to engagement. And remember, it isn't dead if the body is still there.”

Thomas froze. Immediately, his eyes darted back to the streets that he and Michael had cleared of cultists. They were now empty. The cultists had went off to find more targets! "Shit," Thomas growled, before glancing back at the cultists he was fighting--and stepped back in horror, for they were starting to mutate, and doubled their size and muscle build in a grotesque fashion. Now, they were towering over Thomas!

Out of options at the moment, the puppeteer turned on his heel and ran away, his puppets following him while flying backwards to defend him. The least he could do was check back on where his fans had gone.

--------------------------

At the same time, Michael was still running towards the cultists approaching the building upon which the exhausted man with the guns was standing, when arcs of lightning burst through the crowd and downed the entire hoard. Looking up in surprise, Michael saw the robot which he had been sitting next to before the chaos happened towering above them.

First, though, the cultists had to be dealt with. Calling the greenish-gray golem closer, Michael commanded him to smash through the cultists' bodies while they were paralyzed, and he himself began lifting the stones around them and pelting the cultists with them. In a short time--the robot may or may not have been involved in killing them, but Michael hadn't had any attention to spare--the hoard was slain. "We survived it," Michael sighed, mopping his forehead.

He was about to try speaking to the robot, when suddenly, the broadcast played throughout the city. "Wait...we didn't actually-?!" As Michael was saying this, the cultists were standing up all around them with malevolent grins, and brandished their weapons with even greater fervor. And this time, he and the robot were caught in the middle of the storm, so they were in a much worse position than before. Worse, some cultists were entering the building, licking their lips hungrily...

Michael himself was gazing at the building, wondering if he could scale it properly. But it's so tall...it's not likely I'll be able to get there before the cultists do. However, he had to try to reach the man with the guns. "Listen!" he told the robot. "I'm going up there to try and save the man up there. Please, hold your own here, or get to safety; this golem shall help you."

With those words said, he took one step forward and caused the stones under his feet to abruptly shoot upwards, like a compressed spring, launching himself at the face of the building. Carefully timing, he grasped one of the stones that made up the building and manipulated it to elongate outwards, giving himself enough of a handhold to keep climbing.

June 21--10:53 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire

The situation really was getting no better, no matter where Thomas ran. The behemoth cultists were still following him, so he couldn't check up on where his fans were taking refuge. And the train station was equally off-limits, because endangering that many people was just stupid. He glanced back to make sure he was a safe distance away.

Really, there was nothing Thomas could do now. He had one last weapon in store, inside his puppet box...If I use THAT puppet, though, the terror and destruction I'd cause... Gritting his teeth, he decided to buy more time to plan a counterattack, and darted into a back alley, hoping the monster cultists would lose him.

But he could tell a moment later that it was a useless endeavor, for a goblin was conveniently rushing across the roof of one of the buildings right next to him. And, as it turned out, the cultists were glancing hungrily towards him AND the goblin.

--------------------------

Michael had hardly climbed for more than a minute before he suddenly saw, with absolute confusion and shock, that the man with the guns was hurling himself off the building. Wha...WHAT?! I don't even...

The man let out a shout that Michael could not hear properly, but he knew it was directed at him. Bracing his feet against the side of the building, he waited for the man to fall just half a meter above his line of vision, before launching himself through the air and catching him. His other hand extended and caught the wall of the edifice on the other side of the street--thankfully, it was concrete, so he could manipulate it in order to get a better grip. "Don't worry, sir," he told the man, trying to keep his voice calm sounding. "We'll be able to get out of this safely."

Glancing down, however, he could see his golem was not holding well against the cultists. The robot could possibly be doing better, but there were too many enemies down there for Michael to descend to street level. Was there a safe way out? He could try leaping from wall to wall, but that would put a strain on his weak muscles--already, holding this middle-aged man was rather hard for him. Hope one of you has a plan, he thought as he glanced at both of his impromptu allies.

"Listen! I'm going up there to try and save the man up there. Please, hold your own here, or get to safety; this golem shall help you." While a nice gesture of the garish fellow, Gainsboro hadn’t a sliver of interest on running on his own. He came here to help the man he saw on the roof, and that’s what he would do, in one way or another. It was a good thing though that the majority of the mutated cultists split of the group, presumably towards the station. Which in hindsight wasn’t good at all in the long run. Rummaging in his slingbag for the upteenth time today, he retrieved two of his electro packs, leaving him with one of them left. He pressed both of the packs against the connectors on the opposite sides of his neck. The red lights coming from Gainsboro’s faceplate winked out, and were replaced by a fitful yellow light. The extraction of both charges went by fast, and the fitful lightning was quickly replaced by its prior dominant, red glow. Stuffing the now chargeless packs back in his bag, he drew a sword in each hand.”Get that man to safety comrade, i’ll try to hold off these abominations along side your golem!”

The man did not wait for Gainsboro to finish talking and, through his terramancy launched himself up against the wall. Brandishing his swords, Gainsboro rapidly swung his blades at a nearby cultist, cutting through appendages. However, they reattached themselves just as fast as it took him to cut through them. The nearby cultists didn’t sit still, coming with attacks of their own aimed at Gainsboro and the golem. Fast and hard, their strikes came from unorthodox angles and rained down upon him. He blocked and parried what he could, and directed any towards his pauldrons or wristguard, or any other well armored part of him with irregular precision. However, he soon slipped up.

In an almost coordinated fashion, the cultists he had been fending off, all struck at once. Except one. That one waited till gainsboro was in the middle of blocking and struck. The axe, held upside down struck him in his upper torso in a upward arc. The blade dug deep into his chest, and was wrenched out if it subsequently, leaving a deep gouge. It was then that Gainsboro’s calm state of mind left him, and was replaced, not by fear, but by intense anger. Anger directed towards the cultists, with their fiendishly broad grins, and eyes that mocked him so.

Staccato lightning sprang from the rend as the core dispersed more energy throughout the body, giving off a thrum, becoming evermore audible. His swings came faster and faster, until they became like a blur. However, while his movements were undoubtedly faster and carried more weight, they lacked the fluidity and unnatural precision they had before. The swings were wild, and he himself was full of openings, which the abominations eagerly took advantage of. By the time Gainsboro managed to slay one of the cultists through total decimation of his head, his frame was filled with pock marks and gouges. A solid blow to the head with a rather large looking mace, caved the right side of his head in, and flung him into the wall of the building the terramancer had been climbing.

His head, due to the blow was wrenched to left, and as he tried to make sense of his surroundings and in his attempt to adjust to the loss of sight in his right, he noted something.
There was a bicycle with a carrier on the back, leaning against the building, without a lock.
Still angered, and not fully in control of his emotions he shouted towards the young fellow.
“Kid, get your self and that fucker on that bicycle, and pedal as fast as you can towards the train station! Don’t worry, i’ll be able to keep up on foot. We have to make sure we get there before those cockmonglers can amass there!”